The Eagle and the Dove
by prince of underbrush
Summary: As Elizabeth Brisby lies unconcious, her mind wanders to the events surrounding her late husband's life. Only now, after filling all the missing pieces of his mystery, does she realize the extent of the gifts that he has left with her. What made Mr. Brisby a hero is now hers, and it is not the magic stone.


**The Eagle and the Dove**

Based on the adventures of Mrs. Brisby and the rats of Nimh

* * *

Although she was exhausted, hands scarred by fires that had no earthly reason for being, She was the happiest she had been in a very long time. Never in Elizabeth Brisby's life had fantasies of magic entered her mind, but then again, her husband brought many such wonders into her world. She had actually done it, her children were safe, and it was thanks to her! True, none of it could have been done without the stone's power, yet the victory was still her own.

Such interventions do not come without cost, for the energy was too much for her tiny body to bear, not to mention her hands still smoldered from the liquid hot metal of the amulet. But this did not concern her too much, for she would readily throw away any comfort to preserve what was left of her family.

Suddenly the memory of her late husband entered her head, along with every bitter thought she had discovered on her journey, perhaps even well before it. His disappearance harkened countless scenarios, all of which haunted her lonely nights. Looking back she could have categorized them into simple groups of tragedies, but the ones involving his death steadily overshadowed them all. By the time she met Nicodemus, it was all but confirmed by the rats that she was truly a widow.

What surprised her most about learning of his death was just how underwhelming it seemed in retrospect. Even before she learned of Nimh she knew that Jonathan was extraordinary, though he would laugh such exaltations off. But to have him die at the hands of a cat seemed unbefitting of him. The man who brought her the Promethean fire of learning and chased away every nightmare that stole her childhood dreams was treated no better than a rodent. But the more she dwelled on it, the more it seemed to be the kind of death Jonathan was expecting.

Nicodemus told her that the reason her late husband never confided in her about his past was because his aging far slower than hers. Normally such explanations made no sense to her, but when she remembered the images of the nine lab mice falling down a vent, and the memories of her husband's constant embrace when they were in bed; all the pieces fell into place. He was afraid of outliving his family. The mice of NIMH were the closest thing he had to blood in those days and to see them die so pathetically broke something in him. He would rather shorten his life on suicidal errands if it meant never seeing his wife or children expire. For a few hours she cursed his memory for such selfishness, but when she saw her home sink into the mud with her children inside, his demons became her own.

Perhaps that last connection in purpose is what awoke her sto- no, Jonathan's stone. Just like the handsome gray mouse from so long ago, the stone gave her the power to change the world. It rewarded the love that becoming Mrs. Brisby awoke in her, the kind that defies any thought of self-preservation if it means keeping your true family alive. She chuckled to herself for a moment, remembering how the lullaby that she sang for her children hinted to the very same thing.

She could finally recognize her husband's spirit, and the empty space he left was gone forever. Even now the power of the stone was making further sense to her, for the flames that consumed her soul could only be described as Jonathan. That isn't to say she resurrected him from the dead, nature can only allow for so much. But for once in her life, the widowed yet enduringly Mrs. Brisby could stand on her own two (sometimes four) legs. She is both the eagle and the dove; the hero that she wished to be yet already was. Words could never describe the spiritual transformation she has received, yet its effect was apparent.

The dawn was breaking through to her tired eyes, and her musings have come full circle. She couldn't wait to see her children again, for the story she had to share astounded even herself. There was also the matter of fixing her house; who knows how many heirlooms were lost to the immersion. But the more coherent she became, the more she realized that the rats Nimh have very much implanted themselves into her life, just as they had with her husband before. They would, if they already hadn't, help her with the repairs, and she was sure Justin would love to help tell the story of a lifetime. Her part in the legacy of Nimh was far from over, and the stone that saved her family will be needed when the rats' next disaster rears its ugly head. She didn't mind parting with it, its power already proved that there is courage of the heart inside of her.

She looked forward to taking the lullaby to heart, for the sooner her dreams bring her back Jonathan, the sooner she can instruct him on decorating their retirement home. Then again, Mrs. Brisby had no intention of using it for a very long time, especially since she has four little ones to take her on such wonderful adventures. After all, if there was one name that Elizabeth loved being called more than Brisby, it was mama.

The End


End file.
